


border crossing

by sleepinnude



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 22:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15106046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepinnude/pseuds/sleepinnude
Summary: Molly and Caleb kiss for the first time, and then for the second.





	border crossing

**Author's Note:**

> [anna](http://ruushes.tumblr.com/) is entirely to blame for this because she drew [this beautiful thing](http://ruushes.tumblr.com/post/175282200976/caleb-and-molly-and-bonus-frumps-for-cr-rs-week) and i just had to scribble it down!!!

They had first kissed a few days ago. Just a quiet moment shared in the market while waiting for the others.

Mighty Nein had rolled into the small offshoot of a town all feverish and restless. Worn from the road, the cart, the constant watch trained on the horizon and treeline. And, truthfully, a little worn on one another. Upon finding the small but bustling town center, they had agreed to split up, clearly seeking some distance from one another as a palate cleanser. Caleb and Nott, of course, stayed together, making for a bookshop. When Molly had found his way back after barely an hour (it seemed this was a town of simple folk and while they were polite enough, Molly’s appearance clearly set them on edge), it was only Caleb sitting at a bench, Frumpkin draped over his shoulders and a new book in his lap.

Molly had made himself known by tipping the book down with one long finger, hoping for a distracted “hello” and not much more. But Caleb had beamed at the sight of him, silently finished reading the page he was on and then closed the book.

Molly had asked him about it, had let him ramble on excitedly and found himself just too enchanted with the light in Caleb’s eyes, the way he moved his hands through the air. And so he had to pitch forward, settle his weight on his hands and match their lips together.

It had been a warm simmer of a kiss, steady but with the promise of a boil. And, greatest gift of all, Caleb kissed back. In the brief moment he had to consider his action before lunging into it, Molly had thought the other man would just freeze and tense up. But no, he kissed back, he raised a hand to Molly’s cheek, nudging a pendant on one horn so it tinkled.

Molly had pulled away first, gently and with a quiet noise meant to soothe as Caleb chased after the kiss. They met gazes and Caleb had given that wide-eyed look, the one that made Molly want to whisk him away to someplace warm and bright and safe, just the two of them. When the look faded, it had left a brilliant smile in its wake, one that Molly returned and then they had both just been _looking_ at each other, blushing softly and _smiling_ and not speaking and, Gods, this wizard was making Molly soft.

That was how Nott and Jester and Fjord came back upon them and it had been the usual crowded press of Mighty Nein since then. Finding an inn and then a task which led to a fray which led to a celebration which meant a late morning and then, after a final errand run, back to the road. All they had time for had been a soft look shared across the breakfast table. Frumpkin slunk from Caleb’s shoulder over to Molly’s lap and they had grinned at each other and then they were moving again.

On the cart, they manage to sit next to each other at the edge, legs hanging and feet swinging over the road passing beneath them. Nott was next to Caleb at first but then Jester distracted her with a vaguely concerning endeavor involving scraps of ribbon, wildflowers, Jester’s paints and Frumpkin. This road is a little rougher, a little less traveled; it makes the cart bob more. With the momentum, Caleb and Molly sway and bell toward each other like magnets finding opposite poles, shoulders knocking and knees tapping.

Molly’s hand makes a quiet path across one thigh and Caleb, a little uncertain, turns his hand to rest palm-up on his own leg. Molly drops fingers to fit with fingers and their hands stay linked until Fjord calls from his spot trodding alongside the horse that they should stop and make camp soon.

The spot they choose has more dirt than grass but Caleb doesn’t seem deterred. Once he’s contributed his part to setting up the camp, he is cross-legged on the ground, book open in his lap. There’s a few feet of space between him and the rest, their conversation serving as a comforting buzz in the background: Nott and Jester exclaiming over pastries, Beau trying to convince Molly that she had seen a stream from a tree perch, Fjord counting out kindling and fuel for the fire.

Molly and Beau wander past Caleb, apparently off to search for the stream. Molly stops and clucks his tongue at the wizard. At Caleb’s puzzled look Molly shrugs his jacket off and spreads it on the hard ground. He flourishes his hand and Caleb gets the message, shuffling to settle in the fabric. “Danke, Molly,” he says softly, absently, already back to his book. Frumpkin is at Caleb’s knee, insistent rubbing punctuated by loud purrs. Molly leans to give the cat a sturdy scratch between the ears and then lays a kiss into the curling crown of Caleb’s head. The wizard doesn’t take notice but Beau does, snorting indelicately and rolling her eyes.

 

Not quite an hour later, Molly and Beau return. Water droplets still sparkle in Beau’s hair and Molly’s boot squelch a bit -- apparently they had been successful in their search. Molly immediately pulls up at Caleb and Beau rolls her eyes, keeps walking toward the rest of the group, now around a fire. Molly drops to the ground, like Frumpkin begging for attention, and tucks his head onto the open book in Caleb’s lap. If he had to guess, he would say that the man hadn’t moved an inch since he’d been gone, except to turn pages.

“Oh,” Caleb says, surprised from his daze. And then, “Hello.”

Molly rolls to be properly on his back, grinning straight up at Caleb’s face. The shadows of late evening play along the wizard’s features and Molly takes a moment to just look. “Yes, hello, sweets. How was your book?”

“Was?” Caleb asks. It’s a pointed question but it has a smile at its edges.

“Mm. I think you’re rather done with it for tonight.” Molly reaches up, strokes lightly at Caleb’s scruffed chin. He can hear a percolating meow, Frumpkin still at Caleb’s knee. A rustle and the shift of Caleb under him tells Molly he’s petting his familiar.

“Am I?” Caleb finally says. But the smile is there in full. “Or have you just gone an hour without attention and are feeling faint from neglect?”

It comes more and more common, especially since he’s begun to pay closer attention, but Molly still feels the fresh flush of delight drain through him at Caleb’s dry wit. Even when it’s at Molly’s expense (the joke is usually more accurate than he’d care to confess, anyway, and this instance is no exception). “Something to that effect, yeah. Care to remedy it, dear?”

“How so?”

The glimmer of innuendo trailing on Caleb’s words is the only prompting Molly needs. He pitches up, uses his weight to press Caleb back flat against the ground. His jewelry tinkles a constellation of chimes, surely tangled up beyond easy repair, but Molly doesn’t have room in him to care. Caleb gives a muffled noise of surprise and almost immediately flushes. Molly can’t look away. “Can think of a few possibilities,” he says, low and warm and close between the two of them.

Caleb brings a hand to rest at the back of Molly’s neck, fingers in the curls of his hair. The other hand finds Molly’s waist, more support for himself than embrace, really. Once he’s adjusted to their position, Caleb sends a wide, beaming smile up to Molly. “I suppose you’re more interesting than the book, hmm?”

Molly laughs and the feeling of it, of the amusement and the pride at Caleb’s smile and the _all of it_ , settles through, like warm molasses filling him up. “Yes. And if you don’t think so, lie to me.”

“Oh, I would never,” Caleb answers. That thread of flirtatious humor runs through the comment, but also something serious.

Instead of dwelling on the considerations of that, Molly kisses Caleb. It’s only their second kiss but Caleb kisses him as if they’ve been doing it their whole lives, swelling up and into him so their chests meet. Molly sets his hands through the tangles of red hair and does his best to hold Caleb still, keep him right where he wants him so he can kiss the absolute life out of this beautiful, strange, wonderful man. He can tell, after a moment, that Caleb is smiling into the kiss and, Gods, but the feeling that floods through him at that…

The solid _thwack_ of something knocking against Molly’s shoulder interrupts them shortly, though. Pulling apart with a bit of a jolt, they both look up and find that Nott has apparently sacrificed the lesser of her flasks to be lobbed at them. Beau has an expression that’s both properly guilty and proud of herself so Molly would put money that she did the throwing. The whole of the party is grinning at them, eyes bright in the glow of the fire and Jester looks as if she’s already planning to put them in her sketchbook. Molly makes a very rude hand gesture back to them all, pockets the flask for good measure with a shouted, “Keeping this!” and then goes back to kissing Caleb.

The man beneath him is deliciously flushed, squirming now that he’s aware of their audience. Molly regains his attention with a swift tug in his hair and a press down with his hips. This has the rather interesting result of Caleb moaning quietly into his mouth. Molly logs that information away and trails a hand over Caleb’s collarbone. His fingers press a promise there before he pulls away. Another smile, delicate as spider’s webbing, between them and then they straighten up.

Caleb is disheveled in a way that’s much different from his usual and still smiling. He moves to pull his book up, hide away his red face, but Frumpkin has since curled up over the pages and is breathing deep and satisfied. “Well,” Caleb sighs, and Molly isn’t sure if it’s a response to their kiss, the Mighty Nein, or his cat. Either way, he can’t help but to chuckle softly and lean in, dropping a kiss to the man’s temple.

“We found a stream, by the way,” he says casually, still leaning heavy against Caleb’s shoulder. The other man just hums and picks up Frumpkin to deposit him carefully onto Molly’s lap instead. The cat makes a soft noise of indignation before yawning and succumbing to Molly’s scritches. “I wanted to show it to you,” Molly goes on, “later tonight.” He fits his face close against Caleb’s cheek, so his voice is a hot rush down the sensitive skin there. “Once everyone is asleep.”

Caleb colors again and, Gods, does Molly love causing that. He nods and says with a swallow, “Ja. I’d like that,” and then goes back to pretending to read his book.

**Author's Note:**

> titles all from the gorgeous poem "border crossing," by ailbhe ní ghearbhuigh & translated by david wheatley 
> 
> as always, yell at me on [tumblr](http://disasternein.tumblr.com/)


End file.
